God of Broken Things

Chapter 16

We marched northwards through the twilight shade created by the valley’s high cliff walls, uphill through snow and ice, past pools of fresh meltwater and across narrow, humpbacked stone bridges arching over swollen streams. Despite treacherous footing, we made good progress by noon with the sun directly overhead offering us a vague hint of warmth. We set camp atop a flat section of a defensible steep rise that afforded a good view over the valley to act as our command centre.

Like most of the larger holds, the seat of Clan Bhailiol had been burrowed into a mountain for defence and would be considered all but impregnable by normal means. But the Skallgrim had not employed normal means. Eva had a crystal sightglass in her pack and we took turns staring out onto a distant hillside split in half, the hold inside reduced to a shattered ruin of fallen stone. A touch of magic to my eyes sharpened my vision as I examined its innards of tunnels and rooms exposed to daemon hordes that clambered over the burning rubble like an army of ants gnawing on human bones. The farmland stretching out along the valley below the hold had been churned to mud by Skallgrim feet and was choked with rubble and hide tents.

Many of the Clansfolk with us had worried about the fate of their distant kin, and on seeing the devastation they moaned in horror and gripped weapons tight, muttering oaths of bloody vengeance to their spirits. There was no love lost between the other holds and the folk of Bhailiol, but this was beyond anything they had ever experienced. It was expected for clans to raid each other for cattle and wealth and to draw swords avenging old blood feuds nobody even knew the original cause of anymore, but this lacked all honour. This was slaughter and wanton destruction. There was no glory to be found. The enemy did not desire food or wealth or even territory; they killed because they could. The mountainous Clanholds boasted little in the way of fertile croplands so such outrageous waste was an unfathomable crime to the mentality of its native populace.

Nareene was ecstatic to see the flaming death wrought upon the whole area and I thought the crazy fire-worshipper started touching herself when I turned my back on her. I had a word with Jovian to keep her well away from the incendiary supplies stowed in our baggage ponies. There was no telling what havoc she might unleash with all those powders and resins and whatnot if the idea got into her head.

I left my coterie and was joined by the other magi as we climbed a higher peak for a better view. Flocks of bone vultures circled plumes of black smoke billowing from the burning corpse of the holdfast. Far larger winged monstrosities flapped among them, scattering and snapping at the smaller daemons. The scaly beasts resembled the dragons of old Setharii legend, though fortunately for us they seemed far smaller than those great-fanged stone bones dug from the beaches of the Dragon Coast. Now that the hold had been destroyed and all resistance slaughtered, the thousands of Skallgrim who had been encamped on the valley below were busy tearing down tents and packing away their supplies. It was obvious Kil Noth was their next target.

All seven Arcanum magi stood in silence surveying the large army we pitiful few were somehow supposed stop from rampaging right through the Clanholds and out into the flat and fertile farmlands beyond. We had to hold until help arrived, but I personally doubted we could delay them for more than a few days unless Eva’s military knowledge could work miracles. I could only hope that Krandus and the rest of the Arcanum were even now levelling Ironport and would soon be speeding west to take this army in the rear.

Vincent wiped sweat from his brow as he gawped at the army. “How many had they said? Four to five thousand at most was it?”

Secca shivered and pulled her black and white hood lower over her face, as if to hide. “Five to seven more like.”

Eva and I exchanged glances. “The humans are not the greatest problem,” she said. “We can deal with their greater numbers for a time by bottling them up in the small passes, but those daemons are a tactical nightmare equivalent to having winged cavalry. Bryden, how many could you take care of?”

The aeromancer squinted at the sky above Dun Bhailiol, trying to count. He quickly discovered that to be futile. “Not nearly enough if they swarm us.”

“That’s not all we need to be worried about,” I added. “If I were the Scarrabus I would have infested some of those winged daemons. They will have eyes in the sky able to see everything we do and instantly communicate it to others of their kind on the ground.”

Eva cursed. “Superior information wins wars. Whatever traps and trickery we can employ would be rendered useless.”

Cormac stoked his red beard and nodded to Secca. “Mayhap our colleague could help with that particular problem.”

The illusionist winced. “I would have to bend light over a large area. I’m not sure I could keep that up for long, but I could try.”

Granville’s bushy brows lowered. “Try is not good enough. Test it, and soon. I would not wish to rely on it and have you fail. In any case, these are daemons – do any here know if these bone vultures hunt through sight alone, or do they also utilise sound or smell?” It was an unsettling detail I had overlooked.

Luckily we had Eva, who had studied fighting such things. “The bone vultures are much like our birds of prey, hunting mainly by acute eyesight. The larger flying lizards I have never seen before but I imagine they will take some killing.”

As we debated, I sensed a presence approaching us from below, a druí from the magical aura around them, and one that

I recognised: the interrogator, Murdoc. It would prove suicidal should a Scarrabus-infested spy learn of our plans. I turned to the others before he came within earshot: “Watch what you say here, the druí are not to be trusted. Some among them work with the Scarrabus.” As far as I knew it was only Murdoc but it suited my purposes to sow distrust of all the rest as well. With my grandmother in charge they were all against me, and paranoia had always served me well.

Eva had her steel mask and the other magi’s faces adopted masks of their own. We had all been trained by the Arcanum, and initiates swiftly learned to keep their secrets close or have them used against them. Children were ruthless bastards.

“Greetings,” I said, pretending I’d only just noticed the newcomer.

“Edrin Walker,” he said, nodding. “My name is Murdoc. I’ve come tae see for myself while others dicker and flap their jaws like wee old grannies down the tavern.” He stared out at the scene of devastation and disaster and I watched carefully as his expression flickered between horror and… nothing. I had witnessed this before in the traitor magus Harailt, the subtle influence of the Scarrabus inside him twisting his mind and emotions towards its own ends. When it had a need to take the reins all human emotion and compassion drained away.

“The craven bastards,” he said. “This cannot go unrevenged. What is the plan and how can I help?” His voice lacked anger and conviction.

A plan? He would be lucky if I… I blinked. Actually, I did have a plan, and a really good one at that. I looked back downhill to our small army squatting in the snow taking a break while we deliberated. Vaughn had brought that evil pony, Biter, with him to carry our food and supplies. Perfect bait. This could actually work.

I pointed out the vile beast, “That was good timing. Our greatest arcane weapon is stored within those saddle bags, recovered from the vaults below the ruins of the Templarum Magestus. When dusk falls we seven will gather here again to enact a great geomantic working, one powerful enough to bring all the cliff walls tumbling down to permanently seal this valley. We’ll bury all those Skallgrim bastards under tons of stone. We will win with a single strike.”

He looked down to the pony and one eye ticked, the only betrayal he felt any emotion at all. The Scarrabus was paying careful attention to my words.

“While we are working we cannot be disturbed, and the nature of the magic precludes the presence of mundanes. I will require yourself and a number of your most trusted Gifted druí to guard us.”

He smiled, and I thought it did not originate in anything human. “Oh aye, I think I can arrange a wee surprise for the enemy.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent, then tonight will mark our total victory.” The skin of my hand crawled with revulsion at touching the inhuman creature. I pitied what was left of poor Murdoc in there, but he was not going to live through the night and if it were me I would welcome death over enslavement.

We exchanged a few more forgettable words and then he took his leave to head off and gather a number of likeminded Clansfolk for our little ritual. I waited until he was well out of sight before grinning at the other magi.

Eva didn’t like my look one bit. “What are you up to, you sneaky bastard?”

Granville stiffened at the use of foul language, but as it was aimed at a low-born magus like me he seemed to agree with the sentiment. He too seemed curious, knowing I possessed no such arcane weapons and that destroying the valley was a feat far beyond both him and Cormac.

“That was no human; that was a Scarrabus wearing his meat like Eva wears a suit of armour.”

The others looked horrified and Vincent gasped, sneering down his long nose at me. “You traitor! You told him about our weapon!”

Even Bryden, whose head was as filled with empty air as any aeromancer I’d ever met, levelled a flat stare at him. “Have you been at the ale already?”

Vincent flushed, but was still none the wiser.

I sighed. “Does it seem like the Arcanum would entrust me of all people with anything that could destroy an entire fucking valley? I lied to them; that’s what I do and that’s how I win.”

“But why?” he spluttered.

Eva’s eye widened. “Walker is forcing the Scarrabus to strike at us tonight, here, in a place we control. Their ground forces are too far away, which leaves only their flying daemons and whatever traitors they have within the Clansfolk. Without our coteries we will seem vulnerable, and if they kill us here then their passage south is all but assured. No other hold will dare oppose them after destroying Dun Bhailiol and the Setharii magi so swiftly and so completely.”

“You did say their flying cavalry was the largest threat,” I reminded her.

“So your plan is to stand out here in the open is it?” Vincent said. “Guarded only by heathens under the command of a Scarrabus-infested magus? Are you cracked? That is possibly the worst plan I have ever heard.”

I scratched the bristles on my chin. “Who said we would only be guarded by them?” It was far from my worst plan ever but I wasn’t about to admit that. I mean, it had taken an epically stupid moment of insanity to decide to jump down the Magash Mora’s throat to cut out its heart, and that seemed to work out well in the end.

“But you said… you said…”

I smirked. “I’m a liar, remember?”

Secca cleared her throat and offered a hesitant smile. “I suspect we will not even be standing where we appear to be.”

Granville chuckled. “It would seem you get to test your magic sooner rather than later.”

Eva studied the area. “This hilltop is deep with snow. We will make a show of clearing a circle and pile it high. It would serve as perfect hiding places for wardens.”

“We will ambush the ambushers,” Vincent gasped. “That’s… that’s…”

“Brilliant?” I said smugly. “Go on, you can say it.” “Still stupid,” he said, covering his narrow face with a hand. “How can you know they will fall for it?”

My face fell. “They have eyes in the sky and traitors within, and the Scarrabus think of us as little more than cattle. They hold all the cards and they are arrogant fuckers anyway. It will work.”

The pyromancer groaned. “What if they send every single flying daemon they have? Hundreds of them will tear us to shreds. I have not magic enough to burn them all.”

“Aha,” I said. “I have thought of that too. You are an accomplished pyromancer, Vincent, so follow me back down to camp and I will explain everything on the way. I have a special friend called Nareene who will be so very happy to meet you.”

This was going to be fun. Or the worst mistake I’d ever made.